The grocery was crowded tonight. Everybody is in high spirits and eager to engage. I encountered two guys picking out a GIGANTIC turkey that barely fit into their cart. The turkey was frozen solid. I remarked on its size and they were filled with glee and good cheer, pleased with their choice. I suggested they might consider an ostrich and they laughed like they just met a hilarious stranger. I did not have the heart to tell them there is no way that thing is going to thaw by tomorrow. No way. I can see it all now; they will cook it anyway. Guy are like that. The outside will be charred and the inside will still be ice. The sequence of events is set, there is no escaping the inevitability, their turkey will be a complete disaster. Years on they will recall tomorrow as a favorite Thanksgiving coming of age fiasco story.

The past (at least the past two decades) has been the era of the bluebloods, the "best and brightest," the too-clever-by-half Ivy League schemers. I think that's tonight's subconscious populist blog theme. We've given the credentialed experts command of the ship and they've run it onto the rocks. The Sarah Palins and Ron Johnsons of the world are a direct challenge to the rule of the bluebloods, who have more in common with each other (whether they are elitist Democrats or elitist Republicans) than they do with us. The reason that Sarah Palin is such a threat to them is that there are a hell of a lot more of us than there are of them.

Turkey is so boring. I'm gonna serve my own style semi-sorta-German dish tommorrow: a pork and bacon and potatoes and sauerkraut and mustard and fennel thing all mixed up together. Sehr Gut. With red wine instead of beer. Then chocolate cake and coffee. Ach Du Lieber.

Looking at Amazon's Black Friday deals, I happened across the two-volume Historical Thesaurus of the Oxford English Dictionary for $396.00. (Save $99.00!) While that sounds pricey, the books total 3952 pages, and double nicely as a pair of doorstops when not it use for their primary function.

Reading the product description, I learned that it was the result of "[a] forty-year project in the making." I wondered how much drift there had been in the English language in that period. Like the phone book, as soon as it is published, it's out of date. And then there was this ironic passage in the timeline:

1984: Department of English Language moves into its current site at Glasgow University. A kitchen is converted into a fire-proof archive.

I'm sure there's room in the oven for a fire-proof copy of Fahrenheit 451!

The past (at least the past two decades) has been the era of the bluebloods, the "best and brightest," the too-clever-by-half Ivy League schemers. I think that's tonight's subconscious populist blog theme. We've given the credentialed experts command of the ship and they've run it onto the rocks.

Actually, it's more like a century, going back to Teddy Roosevelt and Woody Wilson, unreconstructed Confederate that he was. Occasionally, an Eisenhower, Truman, or Reagan slipped in, but your conclusion is on the money.

We had a half century or so of blue bloods at the dawn of the Republic and then went to sons of the Common Man - Lincoln, Jackson, etc., for about eighty years. Looks like it's time for the Self-Made Man (and woman) again.

Hahaha. Gizmodo has really been banging that the drum about TSA enhanced searches. Their readers generally are not having the politics of if though. The attitude expressed is often, "This is to be expected when you invade countries, etc." and "Oh, so you're fine with wiretapping but not this." And, "So now you know how it feels to be black."

But how about some sweet potatoes instead?

No pictures for this until tomorrow but you might want to have this now.

The idea is to expand the flavor profile in different directions all at once without going crazy about it like using chiles or fennel or something weirdly un-Thanksgivingish. Orange juice for acid, along with pineapple for a different kind of acid, but only if it is fresh, no canned pineapple allowed. That stuff is gross. Ginger for heat but not a chile kind of heat, and for a little yang to the sweet potato's yin, if you like. Brown sugar, of course, to hit that spot on the tongue. And butter for indispensable umami, preferably unsalted.

Method: Bake the sweet potatoes in their skin until almost but incompletely soft. They will be much easier to peel, their starch will begin to convert to sugar and caramelize right there on the pan. They will be noticeably sweeter. Cut them into pieces and pile them in a baking dish.

Anything at all except marshmallows. DO NOT ADD MARSHMALLOWS. If you feel you must add marshmallows, then just forget about the whole thing and forget I ever suggested anything. You're on your own.

Why this anti-marshmallowism? Because marshmallows on sweet potatoes are stupid and because marshmallows aren't marshmallows anymore. They're something else that only vaguely resembles marshmallows as they were intended in the days of yore preceding the nearly complete commercialization of all food. You can not even roast those things properly on a stick over a fire anymore. I'll tell you how to make real marshmallows later. I do make them sometimes but I give them all away because I do not want that silly non-food crap around here.

That is a very nice spot that happens to be a small state park. A state park that is nice, yet unremarkable. A state park that is only used by Madison folks since it offers no significant reason to travel their from a distance. A state park that should be given to Dane County so limited State Park funds can be used for the system's other facilities.